Naughty Snippets
by Ms-Figg
Summary: WARNING: EXPLICIT/GRAPHIC/GRATUITOUS ADULT CONTENT! A Collection of nonrelated oneshots PWP most featuring HGSS, some Lucius, Draco & OC Marcus, BDSM,Bond,CBT,Dom,FMM,HC,MF,NC,OC,Oral,Peg,PWP,Toys Not for delicate sensibilities
1. The Homcoming HGSS

**Snippet #20  
The Homecoming (HG/SS)**

It had been three months since twenty-four year old Hermione Granger had seen the Potions master. He had been away on a secret expedition to locate rare and expensive ingredients with a group of his peers. He was supposed to return tonight and told her to rent them a room with very thick walls.

Hermione did so, and now waited nervously for her lover to appear. There was a knot in her belly that began to grow about a week ago, becoming more intense as the day drew nearer for her wizard to arrive. She hungered for him, her body aching for his possession, his strength, the witch longing to submit to his desire, his need for her. There was no need in the world like the need of Severus Snape as far as she was concerned. The cold wizard only showed heat for her, ignited behind closed doors, burned and raged like an inferno as he claimed her body.

Hermione had given herself to him and he had told her in the beginning, once given…the gift she offered him would not be taken away.

Hermione knew the wizard loved her, though he never said the words. It was apparent in his eyes when another wizard took a second glance, or tried to make small talk and he inserted himself between them, saying his apprentice had work to attend to and couldn't waste precious time in idle chit-chat, then would stride off, a firm grip on Hermione's arm.

"You liked that young wizard?" he would ask her as they walked.

Hermione soon learned not to say, "He seemed nice."

That infuriated him. As soon as possible he would get her alone, strip her down and pin her under him.

"We all seem 'nice' until we get you between the sheets," he'd growl then proceed to fuck her insanely until he was sure even the gods heard her shriek his name. Then, when he finished, he would breathe: "You liked that young wizard?"

"What wizard?" she would answer him breathlessly.

"Now that, Hermione . . . is a proper answer," he'd say and kiss her deeply.

Severus' favorite position was the "bitch" position, with Hermione on her knees or on her belly as he took her from behind, locking her arms in submissive holds, or simply battering her to the bed, then drawing her back again like a carriage return. He could drive deep and hard, possessing the witch the way she loved, and she loved him hard and merciless. She said it made her feel more as if she belonged to him.

And she did belong to him, every part of her body, mind and soul. He sought to imprint himself on her psyche, to linger in the background of her subtext, to lurk on the very edge of her consciousness at all times.

Soon, he would give her his name. There were a few more things to finish first. The construction of their home and adjoining labs for instance. She would be surprised, very surprised. He wouldn't allow her to say no. As far as Severus Snape was concerned they were already bound for life. The ring meant very little, but witches needed such things and he would provide it.

Then when the wizards came, slinking up and trying to turn her eye with trite conversation, he would more than insert himself between them.

"Get away from my wife, sir," he would state ominously, daring the offender to speak one stupid word.

Severus Snape was a covetous wizard, and there was nothing on this earth that he coveted more than Hermione Granger. The first time he took her, under the moonlight in a moonflower covered field a little past midnight while they were harvesting the flowers, he was smitten. She was a virgin and didn't protest when he pulled her against him hungrily and told her she haunted his dreams.

"I dream of you too," she gasped, not telling him she had never been with a wizard before.

He took her down to the soft grass and unveiled her body, tasting every inch of her before slaking his real hunger. He was less than gentle with his foreplay, he was starved for her and Hermione felt as if her body no longer belonged to her as his lips and hands moved over her. The dark wizard was overwhelming. And when she felt his thick, long organ rest again her belly, hot and throbbing, she couldn't speak . . . desire had such a hold on her tongue.

With only the moonlight to illuminate them, Severus had been aware when he was lapping at her core that the witch was tight, resistant, but he didn't investigate further, attributing it to a lack of promiscuity rather than Hermione being a virgin. She was twenty-two at the time. There were no twenty-two year old virgins in this day and age.

But . . . he was wrong, and knew he was wrong the moment he plunged inside her and she let out a piercing shriek. The wizard froze, staring down at Hermione as she trembled beneath him, impaled and taken, her eyes glistening in the pale light, tears sliding from the corners and into her hair.

The wizard lifted himself up on his hands so he could see between their bodies, pulling out of the witch slightly as she gasped under him, able to make out the dark streaks of her blood on his shaft, then he looked at her in amazement, his hair a curtain around his face.

"You should have told me," he said softly, his heart oddly moved by this. Hermione was the first untouched witch he had ever 'touched.'

"If I had told you, you would have stopped, Professor. I didn't want you to stop," the witch said to him, blinking.

"You silly little witch," he breathed, lowering himself on to her body and kissing her, taking time now to make her feel beautiful and wanted. She was right. He would have stopped. A witch's virginity was one of the few things he thought valuable, a treasure that shouldn't be thoughtlessly taken.

"I wanted it to be you," she whispered to him as he ebbed and flowed, flexing into her body, a grimace of pleasure on his face as he controlled himself. He had to be easy, and almost was. By the end, however . . . his hunger reasserted itself and he drove the witch across the meadow, a trail of crushed flowers and grasses marking their path. He thought she'd never let him touch her again, but she did. Many, many times.

Now Severus Snape was entering the motel and asking for the key to Hermione Granger's room, his face contorted slightly as he wondered if the witch had remained faithful to him, or if some other wizard had entered his domain. Three months was a long time, and the wizard had been miserable company for the other Potions masters, dark, snappish and brooding the entire time.

He missed Hermione.

The witch was sitting on the bed when the door flew open and the tall silhouette of the Potions master filled it for a moment before he entered, slamming the door shut behind him, his face somber as he looked at the object of his desire.

"Did you keep yourself for me, Hermione?" he asked her, tense.

"Of course I did. There's no one else for me but you, Severus. No one," she replied softly, rising from the bed and approaching him.

His expression was harsh as his black eyes drifted over her as if looking for a visible sign of infidelity. She was dressed in a white silk nightgown, nude beneath it. He could just make out the little patch of chestnut hair between her thighs as the thin fabric rested against it.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist and embraced him, her happiness at his return obvious as she rested her head against his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat.

"I've missed you," she said softly, "It was as if half my world was gone."

The wizard stood stiffly in her embrace for a moment, then relaxed, his face softening as he brought a hand to her head, burying it in her curls, then encircled her waist with his other arm, feeling her soft body against his robes.

"My world was also less without you, witch," he said softly. "I was miserable company on the expedition to say the least."

Hermione looked up at him.

"We can put our worlds back together now," she said with a smile.

"Yesss," he breathed, lowering his head and kissing the witch, the warmth of her mouth enveloping his entire being as he tasted her for the first time in weeks. So soft, so accepting, the first immersion . . . and the gods knew it wouldn't be the last. His body craved hers.

Hermione shuddered against the wizard as his tongue entered her mouth hungrily, questing, seeking, familiarizing itself with her taste, her heat, her softness. She opened to him answering his hunger with her own, mewling as he began to caress her body, his pale fingers moving over her curves. The Potions master began backing her toward the bed.

He stopped and pulled away from her mouth.

"Now there is another journey I need to take, witch, one in which I reclaim my territory," he breathed, pulling out his wand.

"Divesto," the wizard hissed, immediately removing all his clothing and letting his wand fall to the floor.

Hermione let out a little gasp at the suddenness of his act, although she knew the wizard had little patience when in full-blown sex mode. She stepped back from him, her hot eyes slowly moving over his pale body, tight, ribbed and scarred, then drifting down to his immense erection, pointing straight at her as if looking back.

"Someone looks very happy to see me," she said softly, looking back up at Severus.

"Overjoyed," the wizard purred, suddenly grabbing her and pushing her into the bed.

Hermione lay crossways on the bed looking up at the wizard.

Severus looked down at her, then raised his hand and slowly twirled his finger.

"You know how I want it first," he said softly.

Her belly fluttering, Hermione rolled over and got to her knees, Snape's eyes resting on her soft, round ass and downy vulva peeking between her full cheeks. Hermione had rather thick thighs for her size and ample buttocks. He loved that about her.

He let out a hiss and Hermione felt the bed depress behind her as the wizard's weight hit the mattress. He gently caressed her from shoulder to buttocks several times, his hand leaving a trail of fire coursing down her body every time he touched her.

Then he entered her in one long, delicious thick sliding, his huge member parting and filling her as if her body had engulfed an entire world.

"Feel me," he breathed, falling on his hands and driving forward, Hermione letting out a cry, "Feel how much I've missed you witch."

Hermione's head fell to the mattress as the Potions Master poured it on, burying himself in her tight, wet sleeve with abandon, home again, staking his claim, marking his territory thrust by powerful thrust, gasping with pleasure as Hermione received him. Later, there would be more time taken, moments to savor, but for now…only his hunger mattered.

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A/N: This is Snippet #20 of my NAUGHTY SNIPPETS series. Snippets are small one-shot PWPs that are 'finished' through very…er…naughty adult animations. You can read the rest of the snippets without animations at my website for free. They are quite varied. There's a pretty yummy threesome with Lucius. Ooh la la. 

theburningpen . com

If you would like to read them with the animations, you can make a small donation of your choice at the Burning Pen website on the snippet index page. Eighteen and older please. You will also have access to all snippets and animations completed to date. The donation is to help with bills since I am disabled and on a fixed income, and not for the snippets themselves but the artwork/animations I made. Thanks for reading.


	2. A Surprise in the Upper Corridors

**Snippet 22 A Surprise in the Upper Corridors  
**  
Professor Snape, gaunt and sallow, made his way quietly down the upper corridor of Hogwarts castle, looking for rule breakers. It was the weekend and he was making rounds after curfew. He could always count on at least catching one randy couple copulating like pups in some dark niche or empty classroom.

His face curtained by shoulder-length, greasy black hair, his cold, black eyes darted from side to side, glittering, seeking signs of movement as he listened intently for the sounds of offending students playing at adulthood. His lips held in a thin, tight line, he prowled, robes silently billowing. His over-large, sensitive nostrils pulsated as they scented the air for the telltale aroma of sex. He loved that scent although he did not experience it for himself as often as he would like. When he crept up on his victims, he often watched for several moments before breaking them apart, part voyeur, part authoritarian.

He heard a noise and paused, then pressed close to the wall, slinking forward, his eyes predatory. The sound came from behind a closed door. Behind that door was a room that wasn't utilized. He knew it contained only a desk, chairs and cobwebs. The Potions master eased forward, listening intently.

It was a witch's voice, rising and falling rhythmically, clearly in the throes of pleasure. Snape stopped outside the door, his pale face slightly contorted as he listened to the soft cries. The little fools. Didn't they think to at least place a Silencing spell on the room to conceal their lurid acts?

Obviously not.

"Oh yes, yes Professor," the voice gasped.

Snape's brows rose in surprise. Professor? Was there a staff member shagging a student behind that door? The wizard quickly took a mental tally of potential male teachers who could commit such an act.

Professor Binns was a ghost, so it couldn't have been him. Perhaps Flickwick? Or maybe Hagrid, although Snape was relatively sure a lot more noise would have been evident if that were the case. The half-giant was huge. Unless he was endowed like his father, who had been a normal wizard. His giant ancestry came from his mother's side.

"Harder, Professor," the voice urged. "Fuck me harder!"

Snape stiffened as he caught the familiar timbre of it. No. No, it couldn't be. Not her. Not the Princess of Gryffindor getting reamed in some abandoned classroom by a randy Professor. Dear gods, what a coup this would be! Imagine, catching Hermione Granger in the act of fornication with a staff member of Hogwarts. It was like . . . like Christmas. Better than Christmas actually, since Snape didn't celebrate the holiday.

Slowly, carefully, Snape placed his long, pale fingers on the doorknob, clasping it firmly then turning it quietly, the latch disengaging with a quiet click. The sounds of pleasure inside didn't stop. The witch was unaware of his approach.

Snape eased the door open, his black eyes narrowed in triumph as he eased his head inside to witness the witch's shame. Those eyes widened at the sight that met him.

A single torch burned in a sconce on the far wall, shedding a warm light over the empty room. In front for him was a large teacher's desk. A number of chairs were scattered about. Moonlight was diffused by the single dusty paned window.

Lying on her back on top of the desk was indeed Hermione Granger, but . . . the witch was alone except for a bullet-shaped silver dildo, which she was utilizing. She was dressed in her school uniform, a white blouse, scarlet and gold skirt folded back over her thighs. Her feet were clad in white trainers and ankle socks, her robes and knickers discarded on the floor as she laid on her back, working the dildo in and out of herself, her arching body in profile, her eyes closed as she writhed and gasped.

Snape's eyes glinted as he observed the randy witch fucking herself, and he quietly closed the door behind him. She had come here to fantasize and masturbate. Was she so uptight about her sexuality she couldn't do this in the privacy of her room at Gryffindor tower? And who was she fantasizing about?

Probably that idiot Lockhart, or maybe even Lupin.

Snape's lip curled at the thought of that as he watched Hermione, unable to see the complete penetration because one leg was bent. Yet, her skin was glistening with perspiration and the scent of her arousal filled the air, musky, sweet and alluring. Snape's mouth watered despite himself and he slunk closer, moving to the side so he could see more clearly. He managed to position himself directly in front of her without her knowledge.

His nostrils flared as he saw Hermione's soft, brown pubic hair curling at her apex, and the sweet, pink pucker of her sex as she buried the silver shaft between her thighs, her clit hardened and erect as she manipulated one breast through her blouse, her pelvis thrusting.

"Oh yes. Yes, Professor Snape. Take me! Take me!" the witch gasped.

For the second time tonight, Snape stiffened, unable to believe what he heard issue from the young witch's mouth. Him? She was fantasizing about fucking him? Hogwarts' brightest student wanted Hogwarts' most hated and despised teacher to give her the high hard one?

Merlin. What was wrong with her?

Suddenly Hermione let out a cry and stiffened for a moment, then began to moan as she climaxed, the dildo becoming streaked with thick white cream.

"Yes! Yes!" she cried, her pelvis winding now as pleasure streamed through her.

"You're so good, Professor," she sighed, her breasts rising and falling as she finally relaxed.

Snape stood there, his face contorted and hand reflexively rising to touch his hardened cock straining against his trousers beneath his robes. His black eyes rested on the come-covered dildo now resting against the witch's core and he was filled with lust.

"And just how would you know how good I am, Miss Granger?" he purred in a somewhat raw, yet still silken voice.

Startled, Hermione lifted herself up on her elbows and stared at the Potions master, horror on her face, which turned a bright crimson. She quickly pulled the dildo away from her core and closed her legs. Oh gods, he was here and what was worse . . . he saw her. What she had done.

"Professor Snape," she said weakly.

"The same," he replied, one brow arching.

Hermione started to sit up.

"Don't move, Miss Granger," he snarled at the witch.

Hermione froze as the wizard walked up to the end of the desk, standing before her and looking down at her clamped legs for a moment before slowly letting his eyes drift up her body and rest on her face. Hermione stared back at him, at his thin frame covered in severe black robes, the high collar encircling his pale neck, Adam's apple large and apparent. His long, oily black hair was parted down the center and framed his sallow, angular face. His long, hooked nose was slightly wrinkled and his mouth held tightly as he looked at her, his expression unfathomable as his black eyes gleamed. Slowly, he reached toward her . . .

Hermione flinched despite the deliberate slowness of the Potion master's movement. Her heart began to pound as she felt him grasp the hand that held the dildo, then he took it from her, drawing it close to his face and examining it, his nostrils flaring as he did so. He ran a long, thin finger down the side of it, collecting her release on his fingertip, then sniffed it, his eyes suddenly narrowing. Then he stuck his finger into his mouth, tasting her.

His mouth quirked slightly.

"You are out after curfew, Miss Granger," the wizard said to the witch, throwing her for a loop. This was not what she had expected him to say. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for a response.

"Y. . .yes sir," the Gryffindor replied, her voice quavering.

"I shall have to report where I found you and what you were doing," the dark wizard said, amusement in his eyes now. "The Headmaster requires written detailed remarks on those students who have been caught blatantly breaking school rules."

Again, Hermione looked horrified.

"Please, Professor . . . please don't report this. I'd die," Hermione begged him.

Snape smirked at her, waving the dildo slightly as he did so.

"I highly doubt reporting your little masturbation session will result in your demise, Miss Granger, although the subject of your ardor will most likely raise a few eyebrows," he responded, his eyes glittering.

Hermione's eyes filled with tears.

"Please, don't tell, Professor. I'll do anything. Serve detention until the end of the year. Brew your minor potions. Be your assistant. Anything. Please," she implored him.

Snape stared down at Hermione, enjoying her distress and her pleading. His eyes flicked downward at her curly pubic hair, then back to her face.

"Anything?" he asked her, honey dripping from his voice.

"Yes," she breathed, a bit of hope in her eyes now.

Snape didn't speak for several minutes as he studied the witch.

"It appears from what I've witnessed here, Miss Granger, that you have a great physical attraction to me, at least . . . in your mind," the wizard said to her silkily. "I originally thought you were in this room being shagged by a staff member when I heard you. Imagine my surprise when I heard you gasping my name."

Hermione colored, but didn't respond. Snape arched an eyebrow at her.

"I am not fantasy material, Miss Granger. There is nothing remotely appealing about me and I treat you less than amicably. Why do you fantasize about me?" he asked the witch.

"I . . . I don't know," Hermione said quietly.

Snape scowled at her.

"You do know, and you will either tell me or face the Headmaster," the wizard snarled.

The idea of facing the Headmaster with his knowledge that she was discovered masturbating with the name Snape on her lips was unbearable, although she was sure the Headmaster would handle the situation delicately. Still, she didn't want to go through the embarrassment. She looked at Snape with wet eyes.

"It's because . . . because I know you would never want me," she said tremulously.

Snape stared at her.

"Clarify that statement, Miss Granger," he said softly, his eyes once again dropping to her exposed thighs and the soft nest between them.

"Every wizard at Hogwarts my age wants to shag, and they really don't care what witch they do it with. They're all like mindless, rutting hippogriffs, ruled by their . . . their wands. You're not like that," she said to him.

Snape's mouth curled slightly.

"And how do you know that, Miss Granger?" he asked her. "How do you know I'm not like a rutting hippogriff as well, given the opportunity?"

Hermione looked at him.

"I don't know, Professor, but I don't think you'd be attracted to me that way. You've made it very clear you despise Gryffindor house and you've never treated me nicely," she said to the dark wizard.

"My point exactly, Miss Granger. Still, I watched you masturbate to the idea of me shagging you. I believe you have a bit of a dark twist in your nature, witch. It seems to me you long to be . . . abused . . . taken advantage of by someone you deem cold, cruel and unscrupulous," he breathed at her, his pale face twisting. "Who have you been with? Who took your virginity?"

Hermione blinked up at him.

"Tell me," he hissed.

"No one. I haven't been with anyone yet," Hermione admitted, looking away from the wizard.

Snape was stunned.

"You lie," he snarled at her, although he could tell the witch wasn't lying. He had taught Hermione long enough to know when she was being less than truthful.

Hermione turned her face back toward him.

"No, I'm not. Ron tried, but I didn't want to do it with him, or anyone I knew . . . but, but I had feelings . . . urges. So I bought a toy to use," she said, "I thought it would be just as good and I wouldn't risk anyone talking about me, telling anyone."

Snape shook his head slightly.

"There is no substitute for the real thing, Miss Granger. Pushing an inanimate object in and out of yourself may be pleasurable but is nothing like having a living, breathing partner. You've gained no knowledge or experience from this. You're still a virgin despite your lack of a hymen," he said to her, his dark eyes heating up.

Hermione didn't respond. She didn't know what to say to the wizard as she looked up at him. Gods, what was he going to do?

Snape stared down at her, then looked at the dildo he held in his hand, her release drying on it. He looked back at Hermione.

"If you do exactly as I say, Miss Granger, no one need ever know what I've witnessed tonight or that you have broken curfew," he said to the witch with deceptive softness.

Hermione nodded her head in compliance.

"You will reveal to no one what happens between us tonight, Miss Granger. You are both right and wrong about me sexually. I rarely indulge myself with sex because of a lack of willing partners. I am not an attractive man. There are a number of female Death Eaters that would engage me, but I am not interested in them. They're all whores who will suck and fuck any cock connected to the Dark Lord. That does nothing for me. Normally, you would not either, but I am a man, Miss Granger, a man who witnessed for himself a young witch masturbating with my name on her lips. A young witch who lies knickerless on a desk before him. Do you think me so cold as to not respond to that?" he asked her as he pulled out his wand and cast a Silencing spell on the room as well as a secure ward to keep anyone from entering. He put the wand back into his pocket.

"Besides," the wizard purred at her, "taking one of the Golden Trio and Gryffindor's pride and joy has a certain allure that appeals to my less than stellar side. Now, lie down and open your legs, Miss Granger. I am going to solve a great mystery as well as fulfill a fantasy for you. You will have your Potions master."

"You mean, you're actually going to . . . " Hermione breathed at him, her eyes wide.

"Yes," he replied impatiently. "In a bit. For now, witch, lie down on your back, open your blouse and pull up your brassiere so I can see what nature has gifted you with."

Her belly churning, Hermione lay down as the wizard instructed, everything taking on an unrealistic air as she unbuttoned her blouse, Snape's black eyes watching her fingers intently as they parted the fabric, revealing her bra-encased breasts. Hermione took a breath then pulled her bra up, her full breasts appearing in full view, the brown tips puckered and hardened. Snape eyed them, but made no attempt to touch her tantalizing globes.

"Very nice," he breathed, resting one hand gently on her thigh, Hermione quaking at the contact of his warm palm lightly clutching her flesh as he pulled it, spreading her. The wizard's face contorted and he licked his lips as her scent wafted up to him, his nostrils visibly pulsating. He looked into her eyes as he brought the dildo down, running it between her labia and over her clit slowly.

"Oh gods," Hermione breathed as she felt it.

"A little . . . preparation," the wizard said. "It will be different to have another controlling your pleasure. Spread your legs wider."

Hermione did so and closed her eyes against the intensity in the wizard's gaze.

"Look at me!" Snape hissed, "I want to see your eyes."

Hermione opened her eyes and forced herself to look at Snape as he lowered the bullet-shaped toy to her core and slowly slid it inside her. Hermione let out a moan as the cold dildo entered her. Snape stared at the witch, slowly rotating the sex toy inside her, the witch groaning at the sensation. She had never used it in such a manner and the wizard was gently stretching her in ways she hadn't experienced before.

Snape stifled a groan as he manipulated the toy inside the pretty witch, drawing it back and pushing it deeper inside her, finding a slow, gentle rhythm. Hermione began to sigh and gasp, her eyes closing as the dark wizard pleasured her. Snape reached between her thighs with his other hand and began manipulating her swollen clit, Hermione letting out a squeal, her eyes flying open as he expertly tweaked her, not letting up on the steady stroke of the dildo, his eyes narrowed as she began to whirl her pelvis helplessly.

"Yesss, that's how I want you to move when I'm inside you," he breathed at the witch, pinching her clit lightly, Hermione letting out another squeal between sighs and moans. Gods, this felt amazing and she was too caught up in the sensations to be remotely ashamed of her responses.

The dildo was glistening with Hermione's juice now, the Potions master keeping up his gentle rhythm, speeding up one moment, slowing the next, whirling the toy inside the witch, urging her on as her voice became shriller and shriller as he occasionally suckled her juices from his fingers. Hermione began to quake, her eyes starting to roll up into her head. The Potions master quickly removed the dildo, backing up and kneeling, placing his head between her thighs, Hermione letting out an anguished cry as he parted her and ran his tongue over her soft, heated flesh, tickling her intimately as he savored her taste, a low growl of pleasure rising from him as his left hand started working on the buttons to his robes.

"Oh my gods, Professor," Hermione cried out, her hands grasping his long lank hair in two fistfuls as she yanked him against her core fitfully, the feel of his mouth and tongue laving her taking her over the edge. She had never felt anything like this, anything!

"Wanton," the Professor thought as he slid his long tongue inside her, feeling her sleeve tighten around it momentarily before her hot juices exploded over it, wetting his face as she climaxed with a cry. He shrugged out of his robes, never leaving her, drinking down her delicious emissions, the sound of her orgasm a sweet music falling on his ears. When he left the dungeons this evening, he never imagined such a delight awaited him. Young Gryffindor pussy with his name all over it. Exquisite.

The wizard's cock was so hard it strained against the fabric restricting it. But he had to wait as he pushed Hermione's legs up to better access the banquet pouring from her. He licked, suckled and sucked to his heart's content, bathing the witch's pussy over and over as she jerked spasmodically, pulling his hair.

He didn't mind the pain a bit as he finished her, Hermione's thighs quivering. Finally, he withdrew, rising and looking down on her, licking the excess from his lips. The witch's eyes were half-lidded and her skin covered with a thin sheen of perspiration, her mouth slack, her lips full and shuddering slightly as she looked up at him. He palmed both her breasts, squeezing the flesh lightly, noting how it bubbled between his fingers. She had large breasts for such a small witch, and a large hunger as well. He tweaked her nipples as she panted.

Hermione looked up at his thin, tall frame, now visible in a white shirt and black trousers. He wasn't a muscular man by any means, but his masculinity oozed from every pore, his face wearing an unusual look of pleasure. He had never looked at her with any pleasure before now, and it was a heady feeling to know she had at lasted pleased the snarky wizard.

"Was it good, Miss Granger?" he asked her, his voice rich and raw with lust as he looked down on the witch.

"Oh yes. Yes, Professor," she breathed up at him, still riding on the waves of pleasure he had pulled from her. This was amazing . . . just amazing. None of her fantasies came close and he hadn't even shagged her yet.

She stared up at him, wanting his kiss, her lips working slightly.

"Kiss me," she thought at him, unable to ask him despite the intimacy they just shared. It was as if a kiss from the wizard would be even more intimate for some reason.

"Please, kiss me."

Snape stared down at Hermione, at her mouth . . . how it seemed to offer itself to him. Slowly, deliberately, he bent over the witch, drawing close to her, his black eyes narrowed as he covered her mouth with his own, his lips soft and hungry despite how cruel his mouth appeared to be.

Hermione let out a sob as his tongue invaded her warmth, the taste of her own juices on her lips as he kissed her, his supple muscle entwining with her own, tangling around it before lapping at every hot bit of flesh it could reach. He was maddening and all she wanted was more of him.

Snape savored her mouth, more than savored it. Devoured it, consumed it, the young witch's acceptance driving him to an even greater need, a greater, deeper desire. Most of his life was pain, the rest of it . . . anger, impotent anger. But here . . . here was a moment of bliss, a moment of passion and . . . and dare he think it?

Connection.

Something his life was sadly lacking. And to think this young witch, this walking brain, this irritating but brilliant young woman was the source of it.

Yes, she was the friend and confidant of Harry Potter, a boy he loathed but protected because of Lily. But she was more than that . . . she saw more in him than just a bitter, snarky Potions master and spy, and somewhere in his cold soul, he was appreciative . . . and grateful. Tonight might just be one fleeting moment shared between them, but it was one he would always remember.

Here, in this cold, empty abandoned room high in the halls of Hogwarts, was warmth. A warmth he had sorely needed. One person in the world who wanted him for him. Who wanted to be a part of his world without strings or reservations.

He continued kissing the witch, feeling her arms wrap around his frame and draw him against her passionately, pressing her core against his swollen trousers, her heat passing through the fabric as she moaned. He moved against her sensuously, settled against her warmth as his trousers grew damp from her renewed arousal. Presently, he pulled away from her mouth, his angular face close to hers as he looked down at the witch, who tried to pull him back.

He smirked at her plain desire, then stood up, bent, then reached for his cast off robes. He pulled out his wand, pressed the tip of it against her belly and murmured a Contraceptive charm, then let the wand fall to the floor..

"I've found a hidden jewel," he said to Hermione as he unfastened his belt and pulled it open. Then he undid his trousers, revealing a rather gray pair of underwear. He yanked everything down, his cock springing out, Hermione's eyes widening at the sight of it.

If the rest of the Professor's frame was sparse, it was because all of the bulk had been relegated to his thick, long organ. It stood at attention, the foreskin drawn back from the bulbous, leaking head. It was pale, like the rest of him but straight and proud as he stood before her. The bullet dildo was nothing, nothing next to the serpent the wizard had swinging from his loins. A curling nest of black hair surrounded the base of it, a line of silken black hair leading upward under his shirt.

"You're going to remove your shirt, aren't you Professor?" Hermione asked him, wanting to see as much of the pale wizard as she could.

In response, the Professor yanked her further down the desk, so her hips hung over the edge of it, her legs parted on either side of him, then he grasped the base of his cock and struck her core lightly with his hardness, Hermione gasping as she felt his rigid flesh bounce against her most sensitive parts.

"I am scarred," he said softly, "from the Dark Lord's tortures. It isn't a pretty sight, Miss Granger."

"I don't care, Professor. Every scar you received is because of how brave you are, and that will make them beautiful testaments to your courage," she said to him softly, tugging at his shirt tail.

"My Dark Mark will be visible as well. Surely that will be disturbing," he breathed at her, his desire increased because of her words.

"No. I know who you really are, Professor. You're no Death Eater," Hermione said softly. "You are a hero. A brave, unselfish hero."

Snape stared down at the witch. He knew he was no hero. He was simply a man doing what he had to do. There was no one else after all. Still, he wouldn't attempt to sully her estimation of him. It was clear to see it was a turn-on for the young witch. He wouldn't ruin it for her or himself.

"Gryffindors," he said softly, undoing his cuffs.

Hermione watched as the Professor removed his shirt. He was very thin, but his thinness made his musculature stand out so he appeared sinewy rather than scrawny. Long scars covered his abdomen and torso from the scourgings he'd received because of the Dark Lord's displeasure, welts raised against his sallow skin. Yes, with his sharp features and marked body he was a severe looking man, one who had suffered, but Hermione thought him . . . beautiful. The Dark Mark showed black against his forearm, the skull and serpent clearly visible. Yet this too appealed to her.

Snape saw the appreciation in Hermione's eyes and she shifted hungrily as she gazed at him. He moved forward, staring down at her core for a moment, then looking up at the witch.

"You truly want this, Miss Granger . . . Hermione," he said to her softly.

Hermione felt a thrill go through her at his use of her given name.

"Yes, more than I've ever wanted anything, Professor," she breathed at him.

Snape studied her.

"Call me Severus," he said, leaning over her and placing one hand on the desk, the other gasping the base of his engorged shaft and placing the head of his cock against her softness. Hermione gasped at the heat and hardness of it as the wizard slid it back and forth over her clit, making her writhe. He hissed at her heat, her readiness.

"Here is the reality," he breathed, pressing forward and sliding into her softness, his eyes fluttering as her body wrapped around his girth, accepting him as Hermione let out a cry as he filled her, his hardness a blessing as he claimed her body.

"Oh dear gods," the wizard hissed as she pulsed around him, her eyes liquid with pleasure as she felt the man of her fantasies become more than fantasy. He was with her now, part of her, all the coldness gone as he stared down at her, his mouth slack. He slid his hands under her upturned skirt, lifting it higher as he gripped her waist, pulled back and drove deep inside.

"Ooooh!" Hermione cried as he buried his thickness deep within her, hitting her cervix and making her buckle. Snape held still, his face contorted as he reveled in her warmth and softness.

"Yes witch," he said softly, pulling back and driving into her again, jerking her body, her breasts bouncing sexily as she slid around him, over him, letting out another delicious cry. He rotated his pelvis, winding the witch around him, groaning with pleasure as he scoured every wall, his cock firmly embedded inside her warm body.

Hermione was in heaven as she felt him begin to move, finding his rhythm, his body shifting as he stroked her hungrily, each stroke delving into a different area as he sought to claim every inch of her, gasping and groaning with delight as he pulled her into his thrust, his eyes deep and hot, his harsh features softened as his need for the witch was met, surge after surge, her soft depths a balm for his pain and loneliness.

Oh this was so much more than Hermione had ever imagined. He was alive and real, hungry and full of need for her as he took her, slapping against her body, biting his lower lip against the delight he was feeling. He was hers for this moment. For this moment, Hermione Granger was all Severus Snape, dark wizard and hero needed and wanted in this world. He became more ardent, Hermione squelching around him, sucking sounds following every immersion, every dip, plunge and pivot as he took what she freely offered. All she knew was his strength, his beautiful voice growling his pleasure, those dark, deep eyes fixed on her face as if she were the only creature in the universe. She could vaguely hear herself crying out as he leaned over her, his ardor increasing, tearing into her now, powerful, male, overwhelming as he slammed into her, jerking her body brutally as he let go, losing himself in her body, letting go of all his reserve, sweat streaming down both their bodies as the age-old connection was met over and over again.

Snape fell to her mouth, hunching into Hermione with a vengeance now, claiming the witch entirely, curling his hands over her soft shoulders so she wouldn't slide away from him as he buried his cock in her over and over and over, his tongue possessing her mouth in a double penetration as she cried into it. Yes, she was inexperienced, but she was taking him, wanting him, accepting him as if made for him and he took all he could of her sweetness before the inevitable tightness gripped him, his balls beginning to draw up.

Hermione orgasmed, her sleeve clutching and pulling at the wizard's hard, penetrating length before bathing it in her hot release, the witch shrieking loudly as she melted under his strength, and Snape, as much as he fought it, responded, firing several powerful jets into the witch, groaning at each delicious pulse, feeling their mingled juices wash over him as he shuddered against her, loins pressed tight to her body as he filled her, their mouths still locked together.

Presently, his release eased, yet he still continued to kiss her until he softened inside her warm body, sated and satisfied. He pulled away from her mouth, Hermione's lips slightly swollen from his ardor as he looked down at her.

"Was I what you dreamed of?" he asked her softly.

"Yes. More . . . much more, Severus," she answered him, her eyes gleaming with spent passion.

He gave the witch a smile, a true smile that made him seem younger and yes, handsomer.

"Then we are both satisfied," he said, kissing her once more. "Thank you for this gift, Hermione. It was something I never thought would happen between us."

"And something I dreamed would," Hermione breathed up at him.

Gods, it had been so good. Then suddenly, sadness washed over her. Snape saw it in her face immediately.

"What's wrong, Hermione," he asked her.

Hermione blinked up at him.

"Will this be our only time together?" she asked him softly.

The wizard stared down at her. Hermione was a student, and although there were no set rules against fraternization with a student of the Age of Consent, he wasn't sure it would be proper to continue this. One mutual moment of weakness could be understood . . . but to continue? Not only could Hermione be compromised if word of this got out around the school, but her very life could be endangered because of her association with him.

"I think it best if it is, Hermione," he said, feeling a tightness in his belly as he said it.

Hermione looked up at him.

"It wouldn't be best. Not now. Not now that we know how we make each other feel, Severus. I don't want any other wizard," she said to him softly, "I don't want any other man but you now. It's always been you. Say we can continue. Please. I'll be discreet. No one will know."

Snape stared down at the witch, her emotion clearly written on her face. He was still inside her, still connected.

Everything inside him said to tell her no, it would not be possible. But . . . but after experiencing the young witch, he couldn't say it. He didn't want to stay away. It was foolish . . . irresponsible . . . stupid, but if he could have this connection, this pleasure with someone who truly felt something for him, he wasn't about to turn away from it. He had already turned away from so much.

"Very well, witch," he breathed, covering her mouth again with his own, pushing away his reservations. Death would most likely claim him soon, the Final Battle inevitable. His duplicity would be revealed. Why not take what pleasure available to him?

Hermione returned the Potions master's kiss hungrily, happiness filling her. Yes, he would be a secret, but her secret.

Her Potions master.

Yes, the Final Battle did happen, and yes, Snape's duplicity was discovered, but he survived, Harry Potter killing Voldemort after a great battle and nearly dying himself in the process. But he didn't die, and neither did the Potions master.

He and Hermione remained together throughout several years, the witch attending University and receiving her degree as a Charms Mistress. Then they married and had several rather snarky little Snapes who were the bane of Hogwarts when they attended, only one sorted into the house of Gryffindor.

Well, one out of five wasn't bad.

And Alyssa Jean Snape was just as snarky as the rest of her siblings if not quite as dark.

This suited Snape just fine.

THE END.

* * *

A/N: A snippet with a rather abrupt ending. Well, it's a snippet after all . . . lol. Hope you enjoyed. I will seek out fitting animations for this later. Will have to scour the "schoolgirl" sites. Lol. Thanks for reading.

A/N/N: Snippets with accompanying animations are available at for a small donation of choice. Donation is to help with bills and not for fic but for artwork/animations. Thanks.


	3. Knickers

**Snippet #23 ~ Knickers  
**  
Hermione waited nervously in her parent's flat for Professor Snape to arrive. Her parents were abroad, visiting America for the holidays. She was waiting for the professor because she'd struck a deal with the devil rather than get expelled.

He had caught her in his Potions stores, trying to steal several very valuable ingredients for a potion she wanted to try to brew. An illegal potion at that. Since the wizarding world had nearly fell to Voldemort, stricter measures were enforced at the school because students with Death Eater parents had taken materials in those dark days.

Stealing ingredients and brewing illegal potions meant instant expulsion, with no exceptions. Not even a "hero" was beyond the rules. Snape, upon his miraculous survival in the Shrieking Shack, refused to take the Headmaster position and switched with Slughorn so he could once again haunt the dungeons. The switch was made quietly just before Christmas holiday, so no one knew Snape was restored.

Slughorn wasn't as vigilant as the Potions master, who had a silent alarm on the stores. The moment Hermione managed to lower the wards, Snape was on to her. He silently arrived, and instead of immediately catching her, he stood outside and let her collect all the ingredients, then caught her by one arm as she exited.

Hermione nearly pissed herself.

"Professor Snape!" she gasped.

Snape's cold black eyes rested on her. She was a young woman now.

"Yes, Professor Snape," he hissed. "You are going to be expelled, Miss Granger. I suggest you go pack your things."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears.

"No, please Professor. I only took these ingredients to expand my knowledge of potions," she pled with him. "Surely you understand the lust for such a thing. Don't turn me in. Please."

The dark wizard arched an eyebrow at her.

"I do understand lust, Miss Granger. The question is, do you?" he asked her silkily.

Hermione looked at him strangely.

"Yes," she said slowly.

"Physical lust?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"What are you talking about, professor?" she asked him, a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"You want to stay in school and graduate. I want—satisfaction. Sexual satisfaction. And not from a whore. I'm tired of whores. I want something—fresh and wholesome," the wizard said in a low voice. "I take it that randy boyfriend of yours has already cleared the way—"

Hermione stared at him.

"You are no longer a virgin," Snape clarified.

"No, I'm not," she whispered, unable to believe the cold wizard was going down this path with her.

"Let me fuck you and this whole matter will—disappear," Snape purred at her. "It will be as if it never happened and you can keep the ingredients. Otherwise, I will turn you in and you will be expelled. There will be no special dispensation for you. I'll make sure of it."

Hermione stared at him.

"What? Now?" she asked him.

"No. You are past the age of consent, but if I took you on the school grounds I could be sacked. It will have to take place away from Hogwarts," the wizard informed her.

Hermione stared at him. What would it be like to be shagged by Snape? She always had a bit of a crush on him. Silly really, since he didn't seem interested in any witch. Obviously, he frequented brothels to meet his needs. She hadn't known that.

"I could report you for suggesting this," she told him.

"You could, but you would still be expelled," the Potions master growled. "I would most likely just be disciplined for making the suggestion. Despite questions about my character, my record here at Hogwarts is exemplary. And if I like, I could dispute your claim, saying you threatened to ruin me by declaring I made an untoward advance toward you if I didn't let you go. So, you see, Miss Granger, we can do this the hard way or the easy way. Either way you will be out the door."

"You have no scruples," Hermione said to him bitterly.

"No, I don't. But as I said, I do understand lust, Miss Granger. Now, it is up to you how this situation turns out."

So now, she waited for him at her parents' flat. He had told her precisely how to dress. She was to wear her Gryffindor skirt, making sure it fell above the knees, a button-up white blouse, school tie and plain white cotton knickers and matching bra. That was it—no bells and whistles.

Hermione followed his instructions to the letter. He had told her if she didn't, all agreements were off. He didn't want anything fancy.

"If you must shower, do it the night before. I want to smell your natural scent, not soaps, deodorants and perfumes," the wizard said, his large nostrils pulsating as if he could already savor her scent.

Snape certainly knew what he wanted and expected his desires to be met. Hermione wasn't in the position to deny him anything, and the wizard knew it.

A knock sounded on the door and Hermione's heart began to pound. She slowly walked to the entrance and pulled the door open to see Snape standing there in his severe black robes.

He wore his hair longer these days, the lank strands falling over his shoulders. He was still slender, but had put on a bit of weight since he was no longer a spy nor under the thumbs of either Albus or Voldemort. His nose was as big as ever, and the rest of his features just as cruel as when she first laid eyes on him.

He entered the flat quickly, forcing Hermione to stagger backwards as his black eyes shifted about the living room.

"We are alone?" he asked her.

Hermione nodded.

"I would like something to drink before we start," the wizard said, his dark eyes resting on her. He was ready to get right to business. "Water or juice."

"In the kitchen," she said, walking through a swinging door self-consciously as she felt him following her. He watched as she retrieved a glass, opened the cooler and retrieved a pitcher of cold water. His eyes drifted around the kitchen, noting the double stove, then rested on the granite countertop beneath the cabinets. His eyes glittered.

"Here you go, professor," Hermione said, handing him the water.

He drank it down slowly and deliberately, Hermione watching his Adam's apple bob. He finished the drink and handed the glass to Hermione.

"Place it in the sink," the wizard said softly.

Hermione turned around and placed the glass into the sink. Suddenly she felt Snape against her back. He trapped her against the sink, his hands resting on either side of her.

"Stay still," he purred, removing one hand. Presently it returned, holding a wooden paddle with holes in it. It looked like a small cricket bat. Hermione's eyes widened as he placed it gently against her throat, pulling her back slightly.

"Some punishment is in order for your crime, Hermione," he said against her ear softly. He began to unbutton her blouse with one pale hand.

"Are you going to spank me?" she asked him, her voice quavering as he opened her blouse. This was so wrong, but the idea of Snape paddling her was making her libido do somersaults. She should be horrified by this, but she wasn't. She felt very turned on by the wizard pressing that paddle against her throat and his body against hers. She could feel him getting aroused against her buttocks.

"Would you like me to spank you?" he asked her softly, letting up a little so he could pull her blouse out of her skirt.

Hermione didn't know how to answer him, so hesitated

"I think you would," Snape breathed, grasping one of her bra encased breasts and squeezing it gently. He began to massage it, Hermione breathing heavily as he fondled her, that paddle still held against her throat. Suddenly, the wizard stopped, letting go of her breast and removing the paddle. Hermione started to turn.

"Stay there!" he hissed, then slowly drew her blouse off her shoulders and down her arms, removing it. Then he hooked his long, pale fingers into the sides of her skirt and slowly drew it down, leaving her knickers intact. Hermione lifted her feet obligingly, her skin prickling from exposure and nerves. Snape then removed her trainers and socks, then stepped back.

"Now you may turn around," he breathed.

Hermione turned, dressed only in her white cotton bra and knickers. Snape's dark eyes drifted over her body and glittered as they rested on her underthings.

"So pure," he breathed, his eyes resting on the white fabric. Then his eyes shifted to her face.

"I can smell you, Hermione. The crotch of your knickers is warm and moist for me. That is a pleasant and welcome surprise," he said to her softly. "Knowing you desire me makes this less of a case of coercion from a lascivious Potions professor—"

Suddenly Snape grabbed her roughly and turned her back to facing the sink, once again pressing against her back, the paddle returning to her throat, one arm wrapped around her waist.

"—and more of a mutual encounter."

He kissed her shoulder gently and Hermione quaked at the contact.

Snape shifted his arm so his hand was in contact with Hermione's belly. He slid it slowly upward, under the cup of her bra and gently grasped her breast while grinding his erection against her buttocks slowly.

"Yesss, so soft. So—innocent," he breathed against her ear as his hand shifted to her other breast, the paddle still against her throat. The combination of gentleness and obvious dominance was sending Hermione into meltdown. How sexy was this?

"Divesto," Snape breathed.

Hermione felt the fabric of his sleeve disappear and looked down to see his bare arm before she realized his naked body was pressing against her back, his cock rubbing over her knickers. Damn, he didn't intend on wasting any time, did he?

She felt him pause, and the paddle was set down on the counter. He pulled back from her body and she felt a little cold after the warmth of his skin against hers. The professor undid the clasp of her bra and slowly slid it down her arms. Hermione pulled her hands out and he tossed it to the floor. Now, she only wore her knickers.

Snape pulled her hair aside so her throat was exposed, then pressed his lips against Hermione's jugular as he slid his hands upward over her belly and grasped both of her breasts, fondling them as he suckled her throat, pressing his long, hard cock against her buttocks again. Hermione let out a moan.

Snape picked up the paddle and this time pressed the cold wood against Hermione's stomach, then gently pointed it downward, letting go of her breast and grasping the elastic of her knickers between two fingers, pulling the fabric away from her body and slipping the paddle underneath them and over her brown pubic hair. He began to move it back and forth, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"Oh my gods," Hermione breathed as the wizard twisted the paddle slightly so the smooth edge rubbed her labia. She squirmed against him as he held her steady, his breathing growing heavier as she reacted to his ministrations.

"An interesting way to use a paddle, isn't it, Hermione?" he asked her softly as she ground against him now, her soft buttocks and the cotton fabric of her knickers rolling over his hard-on. He bit his lip at the feel of the fabric shifting his foreskin, then suddenly took the paddle away, putting it back on the counter. Hermione made a small sound of frustration. She had been so close.

Snape released her.

"Bend over the counter. Stick your arse out," he said rather hoarsely.

Feeling hot all over, Hermione did as he asked, waiting and wanting whatever was going to happen next. She looked over her shoulder at him. He was thin, sinewy and pale. She could see his musculature, but it was because his body was so gaunt, rather than because he worked out. Small scars criss-crossed his chest and belly. She couldn't see his cock because he was standing directly behind her, but by the feel of it, it was a nice size. More than adequate.

She gasped as Snape suddenly dropped from sight.

The Potions master was squatting on his heels, studying Hermione's full round buttocks and the moist cleft of her knickers. Reverently, he placed a hand on each globe, then shook them violently, Hermione letting out a squeal as he jiggled them, watching the flesh ripple under her knickers.

"I love a witch in white cotton knickers," the wizard breathed, then pressed his huge nose into her crotch, inhaling with relish as Hermione let out another surprised squeal and slumped a little at the contact.

"What are you doing?" she gasped at him before she gurgled as he pulled the crotch of her knickers aside and began tonguing her ardently.

"Ohcircemerlindianaandallthegods!" Hermione hissed, gripping the counter as the Potions master, licked and nibbled her core, occasionally pulling on the crotch of her knickers with his lips and sucking the flavor from them. After about five torturous minutes of this, the wizard straightened, then slipped his cock under the fabric, resting his length between her cheeks and started thrusting, letting her knickers and arse caress his rigid organ.

"Oh my gods—is he fucking my knickers?" Hermione breathed to herself as Snape grasped her arse and went to town, his cock capturing and pulling her knickers, working them back and forth over his shaft. This had the added pleasure of pulling the crotch of Hermione's knickers and applying a delicious rubbing over her clit, so she was getting something out of the wizard's kink as well—

**[ ANIMATED IMAGE ]**

"Oh, professor!" Hermione howled as she suddenly came. The feeling of his cock moving between her buttocks, and the pull and stretch of her knickers over her clit and labia had proven to much and she broke apart like a dam hit by a boulder.

The professor hissed as he felt her hot gush cover his balls.

"I believe you've sprung a leak, Hermione," he purred, dropping down and pulling her resoaked knickers aside and enjoying the musky ambrosia dripping from her core for a moment, but not too long. He wanted her wet.

Hermione was once again calling on old and new gods as the wizard lapped at her, letting out a garbled obscenity as he pulled away and straightened.

"No!" she hissed.

Snape picked up the paddle again, pressing it against her throat as he pulled her knickers aside and entered her quickly, Hermione buckling as his hardness slid through her soft sleeve.

"Yes," he hissed back at her.

**[ ANIMATED IMAGE ]**

* * *

Ron couldn't understand Hermione's lack of responsiveness when he saw her the day after Snape had visited her.

"Come on, Hermione. Give us a shag. This is perfect for it. Your mum and dad aren't here . . ."

"No, Ron. I don't feel like it," she snapped at the wizard sitting on the couch next to her.

"But it's been weeks. You have to be a little randy. I know I'm about to pop a seam," Ron said, looking down at his bulging erection visible through his jeans.

"I'm sorry, Ron, but I'm not interested. Go wank off or something," Hermione told him.

After professor Snape, Ron would hardly be satisfying.

"Fine. So, I wasted a trip here then," Ron said sullenly.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"Yes, you did if your only reason for coming over was to shag me. Did it ever occur to you to just visit?"

"No."

"Get out, Ron!"

* * *

When Hermione returned to Hogwarts, professor Snape didn't give the slightest indication that anything had occurred between them, but true to his word, he didn't report her theft of potion ingredients.

Now, two month later, the wizard sat up in his bed, the silent alarm on his stores going off in his rooms. It had to be three in the morning.

"Oh blast," he snarled, jumping up and pulling on his robes over his nude body, slipping into his house slippers and grabbing his wand.

"Whoever this is, he's going to get hexed before he gets expelled," the wizard swore, letting himself out of his quarters and into his office, billowing down the corridor and snarling as he saw the open potions stores door.

He charged in, to find Hermione leaning against the back wall, tossing a bottle up into the air and catching it in her palm. She was dressed in her school robes.

"Oh my," she said softly as she pulled out her wand and flicked it at the door behind the wizard. It slowly closed and locked. Snape looked back at it, then back at Hermione, cocking his head at the witch, his eyes narrowing.

Hermione straightened and slowly approached him.

"I believe I've been caught stealing again."

Snape stared down at her as she stopped a foot away from him. His dark eyes began to glint.

"Yes, you have, Hermione. Before I decide whether or not to have you expelled, do you mind telling me what you are wearing underneath your robes?" he purred at her, his robes beginning to tent.

Hermione gave him a naughty smile.

"A bra and white cotton knickers, of course."

* * *

A/N: For snippets with accompanying original artwork/animations, visit theburningpen . com for details. *** Thanks for reading.


	4. The Problem with Polyjuice

**The Problem with Polyjuice**

"Hermione, I don't know about this," a reluctant Ronald Weasley said as he eyed the bubbling glass of Polyjuice Potion the witch held out to him.

They were in the upper halls of Hogwarts, the Room of Requirement having appeared there out of the way. Hermione had brewed a batch of Polyjuice Potion for tonight. It was a very special night for the witch. She and Ronald Weasley had been going out for more than a year and a half now.

"Ron, you promised me you'd fulfill my fantasy if I let you bugger me, and I did!" Hermione said to him, frowning.

"Yeah, but I thought it would be something like a pirate fantasy or being kidnapped. Not this!" the wizard replied.

Hermione lowered the glass and her face contorted.

"Ron, I let you fuck me in the ass because you said you'd do anything I wanted you to do. Now if you back out of this…we're finished! Done! Ended," Hermione hissed at him.

Ron blinked at her.

"I didn't know your fantasy was to shag another wizard, Hermione. That's just…just sick!" he said, "Especially the one you want to fuck."

"For gods' sakes, it's just a fantasy, Ron. I'll be shagging you," she retorted.

"Yeah, but I won't look like me," he shot back at her, "It'll be like you're cheating on me with me."

Hermione sighed and said to the room, "Create Potions Classroom."

Suddenly the room changed, perfectly recreating the Potions class down to the last pickled creature. Hermione looked around the room then back at Ron with narrowed eyes.

"Take this now, Ron!" she hissed at him, shoving the glass of potion into his hand, "Now you go out that door…"

* * *

Professor Severus Snape was prowling the upper levels of the castle looking for rule-breakers, his sharp ears listening for the slightest gasped breath and black eyes shifting toward every niche and checking every empty room. So far he had no luck and was in bad temper.

As he walked up the corridor, he noticed a door that was out of place. He smiled nastily.

"Room of Requirement," he breathed, walking up to the door.

"Professor Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts," he purred, then turned the knob quietly. The ROR was keyed to open to any staff member, whether occupied or not. It looked as if his nightly hunt was about to pay off. He hoped the rule breakers were Gryffindors.

Snape entered the room and looked surprised as he stepped into a recreation of the dungeon corridor right outside of his Potions classroom. He could hear voices. He walked up to the door and quietly cast an amplification spell on it.

Who would want to recreate his classroom…and why?

"…you take that glass of Polyjuice potion, go out into the corridor and drink it down, Ronald. When you change into Professor Snape, you come back in. Remember, I am supposed to be serving detention. Then you have to taunt me…tell me that you've known I wanted to fuck you for the longest time, then ravish me…and make it rough. I want to believe I'm really with him," he heard a familiar female voice say.

"Hermione, this is sick. I don't want to do this," Ron Weasley whined, "Besides, impersonating a teacher with Polyjuice can get me expelled."

"No one's going to catch us Ron. Really. I can't believe you're trying to back out on me after what I did for you," Hermione said, "All right then. Consider us broken up. It's over, Ron."

Ron's eyes went wide.

"No. No, Hermione…don't do that. All right. I'll drink the potion and shag you pretending to be Snape…but this is the first and last time. It gives me the willies," he said resignedly.

"Good, now get out there," the little witch said, smiling broadly, "And remember, be snarky. He turns me on when he's snarky."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron groused, thinking how fucked up it was that Hermione had the hots for Professor Snape and let him know it.

Well, if she wanted to get fucked hard, he was definitely going to do it. He'd be so horrible she'd never fantasize about Snape again. Ron hoped the wizard had a huge tool to match his huge nose.

Ron exited the classroom, closing the door behind him. He looked at the bubbling glass of Polyjuice potion with a wrinkled nose. It tasted terrible.

"Damn, I wish there was something else to shag other than witches. I can't believe Hermione wants me to do this," he griped, bringing the glass to his lips.

"Do what, Mr. Weasley?" a silken voice asked behind him.

Ron dropped the glass of potion and spun as a walking nightmare glided from the shadows.

Professor Snape.

"Professor!" Ron gasped, then his mouth starting working like a fish as he paled.

He was as good as gone.

"What is it Miss Granger wants you to do, Mr. Weasley? Besides break rules by being out after curfew, that is," the Potions Master purred at him.

"She…we…oh…oh just punish me, Professor," Ron said as the wizard bent and ran one pale finger through the spilled liquid. He straightened and brought it to his nose.

He sniffed, then cocked his head and looked at Ron.

"Polyjuice potion, Mr. Weasley. That is a controlled potion. Who were you going to turn into?" Snape asked him with an arched eyebrow, "And don't lie to me boy."

Ron was wondering why Hermione didn't come out when the glass broke.

"Oh I don't know Professor Snape!" Ron said loudly, hoping Hermione would hear him.

"Don't bother trying to alert Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley. There is a silencing charm on this corridor. She can't hear you," Snape purred, bending again and picking up a long black hair.

The wizard pulled out his wand and muttered a spell. The tip of his wand glowed blue, then gray. The wizard then pointed the wand at his own person. It again glowed blue, then gray. He looked at Ron with narrowed eyes.

"This hair has my signature, Mr. Weasley. You were going to duplicate my person," the wizard said, "That is an expellable offense. Tell me why."

Ron wasn't about to tell the Professor he was going to pretend to be him and shag Hermione.

"I was going to be a punching bag for Hermione…she…she has some issues with you and wanted to throw some hexes and let off some steam," the redheaded wizard lied.

"A…punching bag, Mr. Weasley?" Severus asked him, smirking slightly.

"Yes sir," Ron said, meeting his gaze nervously.

Snape looked at him for several moments.

"Three hundred points from Gryffindor and a month's detention with Filch starting tomorrow, Mr. Weasley. Your punishment would have been more severe had you actually drank the Polyjuice potion. Now, leave the room of requirement and return directly to Gryffindor tower. I will know if you've dallied or not," Snape said to the redhead.

"But what about Hermione?" Ron asked him.

"Miss Granger is not your concern. I will deal with her. Now, unless you wish to lose your house another one hundred points I suggest you get your robes in the wind, Mr. Weasley," the Potions Master snapped at him.

"Yes sir," Ron said, exiting the ROR and heading for Gryffindor Tower.

He knew this night was going to end up badly. The wizard was just glad he wasn't expelled. Everyone was going to be furious he lost so many points. He wondered how much Hermione would lose.

* * *

Snape strongly warded the door to the ROR so even Albus himself wouldn't be able to enter easily. A ward would sound if the entrance was breeched. He stared at the door, then removed the silencing spell.

"Come on, Ron!" Hermione shouted.

The Potions Master hesitated, then opened the door and entered the classroom. Hermione was seated at the first desk in front of his desk, turned in the chair.

"Wow, you look just like him," she breathed.

Snape slowly walked up the aisle, stopped near the desk and looked at the witch consideringly.

"There will be no acting out of character, Miss Granger," he purred at her, then walked around his desk and sat down.

Hermione squirmed.

"You even sound like him. My god, Ron. I could just come on myself listening to you," the witch said, her amber eyes full of hunger.

Snape studied her.

"I told you, Miss Granger…no acting out of character. You will address me as you would your Professor…not that bumbler Weasley," he snapped at her.

"Wow," Hermione said under her breath, then, "Yes Professor Snape."

"Better," the wizard said, "For your detention we will have a Question and Answer session. I will ask the questions and you will answer them, truthfully. Understand?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said, hoping Ron would be as good at this as he appeared to be. Damn, he was good. He even had the Professor's demeanor down pat.

"Miss Granger, do you imagine yourself a match for me in any manner?" the dark wizard asked the witch.

Hermione stared at him.

"What kind of question is that?" Hermione asked Ron-Snape, frowning.

"Just answer it. Do you think yourself my match in any manner…mentally or physically?" the wizard demanded.

"Well, I am rather bright. If I had access to as much knowledge as you do, I could probably match you intellectually," the witch said, "but what's that have to do…"

"Be silent!" Snape snarled, slamming his hand down on the desk violently, making Hermione jump, "I will ask the questions here, Miss Granger!"

Hermione stared at the wizard she thought was Ron polyjuiced and felt her knickers dampen. Gods, he was so Snape-like.

Snape regain his composure.

"You are not my intellectual equal, Miss Granger. You are smart…not intelligent. There is a marked difference. And you are only smart concerning facts and learning lessons…not concerning life. Your very being in this situation shows not only that you are not intelligent, but quite stupid," the wizard said with a sneer.

Hermione scowled.

"I am not…" she began.

"DIDN'T I TELL YOU TO BE QUIET, WITCH?" the Potions Master roared, leaping up from his desk so quickly, his chair toppled to the floor as he strode around his desk and up to Hermione, placing both hands on the desk top and leaning forward, his face mere inches from hers.

"Now, you answer my questions when I ask them, Miss Granger. You are in enough trouble…believe me," he said softly, but his black eyes were hard, "coming in here to live out a fantasy of fucking your teacher. You're a twisted little bird, very twisted."

Hermione was quaking before the wizard, but it wasn't with fear. His screaming at her only made her want him more. What would it feel like to have him take her? She knew this was Ron, but it was so easy to pretend it really was Professor Snape…especially the way he was acting. Ron was really very talented at mimicry.

"What makes you think you even have the stamina to tangle with me, witch? You're little more than a child. How old are you? Eighteen?" he asked her.

"Yes," Hermione said, her voice quavering.

"I am a grown wizard, Miss Granger. A man. Not a boy. I am not built like a boy and I certainly don't fuck like one. You don't want what you think you want and if you are wise you will leave this classroom now and scurry back to Gryffindor Tower while you still can walk," he breathed at her.

Hermione felt as if she could melt into a puddle as she looked at the angry wizard.

"Are you going to go, Miss Granger?" he asked her, "This is your last chance."

Hermione shook her head.

"No. I don't want to go. I need to do this," Hermione said, "I've dreamed of nothing else since you said you'd give me my fantasy Ron…"

"Stop calling me 'Ron' Miss Granger. I am Professor Snape," the dark wizard said.

"Yessss. Yes you are," Hermione said, almost moaning. She thought Ron was just trying to keep in character. She had no idea this was the real Professor she was talking to.

"Very well, Miss Granger…since you will not leave…"

Suddenly Snape's hand shot out and grabbed Hermione by the hair, pulling the witch up and forward.

"Come on. Over the desk now," he breathed, pulling her hair hard.

Wincing and lubing herself at the same time, Hermione climbed over the desk, the Professor keeping a firm grip on her hair as he began to unbutton his robes with one hand.

"So you think you like it rough, witch? You have no idea what that means," the Potions Master said softly as Hermione stared at him with wet eyes, her mouth slack.

The wizard's black eyes rested on her face for a moment, seeming to see inside the witch.

"You like this kind of treatment, Miss Granger, don't you?" he asked her silkily as he pulled his robes open, surprisingly revealing a button down shirt that was a kind of a dark pink and black belted trousers beneath.

Hermione didn't expect a splash of color beneath the severe wizard's robes. Did the Professor really wear colors like this under his robes or was that a bit of Ron showing through? But she was more concerned with answering him than his clothing.

"Yes," she whimpered, "I like it."

The Professor let go of her hair and slid off his robes, tossing them aside, then unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a pale, lean torso and belly. A line of dark hair disappeared into his trousers and a few scars crossed his chest and abdomen. The majority of his marks were on his back, raised testaments to Voldemort's cruelty.

"How many wizards have you fucked, Miss Granger?" he asked her.

"Only you. I mean…Ron," Hermione answered, still aware that this…this snarky wizard was actually Ron…Ron doing a very, very good imitation of Professor Snape. How did he get his voice to sound like that though. He sounded so much like the Professor. Maybe the Polyjuice potion somehow managed to capture that aspect too, though normally only the body changed…not the voice.

But Hermione didn't care. She loved Ron sounded like Snape. It made it more…more real.

Snape looked at her, then backed up against his desk, leaning on it.

"Take of your robes, your blouse and your bra, Miss Granger," he said softly.

Snape watched as the witch complied. Yes, she was wearing her student uniform beneath. She took off her robes and let them drop to the floor behind her, then undid her white blouse and slid it off, revealing a white cotton bra and rather full breasts. The wizard's dark eyes glinted as Hermione reached around and unclasped her bra, sliding it down her arms and also depositing it behind her on top of the robes and blouse. She stood before him, her nipples so hard they hurt.

The wizard drank her breasts in. They were round and firm, topped with dark areoles, the tips tight with excitement. Snape didn't touch them though. It was clear to see the witch wanted him to touch her, the way she leaned toward him invitingly.

"Undo my belt," the wizard ordered the witch.

Her hands trembling terribly, Hermione grasping his Slytherin buckle, pulled it up and released the belt.

"Now, undo my trousers," the wizard commanded, watching as Hermione's small, nervous hands undid the single button and zipped down his fly.

"Pull them down around my ankles," the dark wizard said.

Trembling Hermione pulled the wizard's trousers down, leaving him clad in his black silk boxers. Snape cocked his head at her.

"The boxers too, witch," Snape said, frowning slightly.

Hermione looked up at him and licked her lips, then without hesitation hooked her hands into the waistband and drew them down as well, wanting to see what the snarky wizard hid under them. Her eyes widened as his pale cock was revealed. . It was huge and only partially erect, the foreskin hanging over the end giving it a trunk-like appearance.

"You're going to do something for me before I do something for you, Miss Granger. I haven't had a blow job in ages. Since you are so desperate to engage me, you will meet this demand," the wizard said, grasping the base of his cock and shaking it, "On your knees, witch,"

Hermione sank down, her eyes crossing as she looked at his huge member. He was so much bigger than Ron.

"Open your mouth wide and stick out your tongue," the Potions Master directed as the dark head of his cock began to stretch, the soft foreskin appearing to roll back.

The witch did as he asked, looking up at him. The wizard's face contorted as he looked down on his student's face, her mouth held open in readiness, her pink tongue resting on her lower lip…a waiting cushion. His cock bounced.

"Mmmm," the wizard breathed

He placed one hand on the back of Hermione's head, then pressed his cock into her warm mouth, letting out a sexy groan that made the witch shudder as he filled her mouth, his organ hot and hard. Hermione went to work on the Potions Master's cock as if it were a delicious, thick stick of candy.

Snape watched the witch as she grabbed the base of his cock and lifted it, going to town, managing to get it quite deep into her warm, wet mouth. The wizard sighed with pleasure and stroked her hair gently. She wasn't artful yet…she was too young…but there was a lot to be said for enthusiasm.

**[ANIMATED IMAGE]**

"I understand you want me to ravish you, Miss Granger…but I am not a man that forces witches, so that part of your fantasy will not be met. However, the roughness…I can supply…just keep going and you will receive what you think you want," he breathed, now thrusting into the witch's mouth, making her gag slightly.

Snape looked down at his glistening cock. It was covered in Hermione's saliva, the sight of the young witch sucking it quite erotic. Suddenly he stiffened and pushed Hermione away, the witch falling back on her hands, her breasts thrust forward as the wizard hissed and grasped the head of his cock and squeezed it, his face contorting.

After about a minute, he released his organ. It was swollen and slightly reddish. He looked at Hermione.

"You aren't very talented yet, witch…but you managed to almost do the job," he said to her softly, "But the hour is late and I have no time to wait to recover. You must get back to Gryffindor Tower…so…without much ado…take off the rest of your things, Miss Granger."

Hermione nearly leapt to her feet in her eagerness to get naked and get fucked by her dream wizard. Snape couldn't help smirking a bit at her enthusiasm as he straightened and removed his shirt, then stepped out of his trousers.

"You truly want me, don't you Miss Granger?" he asked the panting witch, who was staring at him hungrily, completely naked.

She was well-built and her hips and thighs rather thick. Most likely she would become heavier and more rounded as she grew older. But Snape liked thick. Her little chestnut bush was quite long and hairy.

Snape liked that too. Pussy au natural.

"Yes…yes I do," she breathed.

"May I ask you why?" the wizard inquired.

Hermione balked a little. This was Ron. It was bad enough he was pretending to be another wizard for her…she didn't want to tell him why she found Professor Snape so desirable. It might hurt his feelings.

"I'd rather not say, Ron," she said, some of the heat going out of her eyes at having to step out of her fantasy, "I appreciate you doing this for me, but I don't want to hurt you. I just find the Professor incredibly brave and cold and distant, and…and I'd like to be let in. I think my fantasy is to just be his focus for once instead of everything else he has to deal with. That's all I can comfortably say."

There was much more to Hermione's attraction to the Potions Master, deep, dark emotions inside her that a man as dark as he was could satisfy just through contact. She loved his darkness…it frightened and excited her. As a Gryffindor, it was her guilty secret…to want to experience that darkness.

"So you want to give me respite…pleasure," Snape purred at her, "You want to be the center of my world."

Hermione nodded and the wizard studied her for a moment.

"I shall certainly be the center of yours," he said, suddenly grabbing Hermione and swinging her around, bending her over the desk, forcing one knee on top of it and stepping into her.

Without hesitation, Snape plunged his cock deep into her tight wet sleeve, the desk tilting back from his power as the witch shrieked…

**[ANIMATED IMAGE]**

He was everything Hermione wanted him to be, and after he finished with the sobbing witch, Snape scourgified and dressed her, then sent her to Gryffindor Tower, still shuddering from his possession, still thinking Ron was staying in "character."

She didn't lose any points however.

When Hermione entered the common room, she was stunned to find Ron waiting for her.

"How…how did you beat me here, Ron?" she asked him, amazed.

"Snape sent me before he entered the classroom," Ron replied, "He took three hundred points from me and assigned me a month's detention with Filch. I'm lucky I didn't drink the Polyjuice potion. I'm sure the git would have gotten me expelled. What did he do to you?"

Hermione stared at Ron with an unreadable look on her face.

"Hermione. Hermione are you all right? What did he do to you?" Ron asked her, thinking she was distraught about what happened.

Hermione blinked at Ron. Oh shit. Professor Snape had actually fucked her. Oh gods. Oh dear gods! The witch pulled herself together. She couldn't let Ron know.

"He…he just gave me a good talking to," Hermione said, "Then let me go with a warning."

Ron sighed with relief.

"You got off easy then," he said, yawning, then leaning in and giving her a kiss on the lips, not knowing where those lips had been. Hermione had to fight to keep from pulling away.

"I'm off to bed then. I hope you see now that impersonating Snape is dangerous, Hermione. I hope you're not going to try that again. It's sick anyway," Ron said, walking toward the stairs, "Night 'Mione."

"Good night Ron," Hermione said dazedly as she headed for her Head Girl room, still feeling Snape's ache pulsing inside her.

Gods, how was she going to face the wizard tomorrow? How was she ever going to face him again?

* * *

In the dungeons, Snape took a nice hot shower, reliving his tryst with Hermione and smirking as he thought of her discovering it was not Mr. Weasley she had engaged, but the real item. She'd probably have a breakdown.

He exited the shower and dried himself off.

Whatever happened, he was sure the rest of the school year was going to be quite interesting. Quite interesting indeed.

* * *

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	5. Master and Slave Bondage

**Snippet #10 (HG/SS)  
Master and Slave**

Hermione Granger stood outside the castle next to the hidden door that led to the dungeon corridor, her hair damp and pulled back into a ponytail as she clutched her robes around her. It was midnight and the Potions Master had said to meet him here. It had been a week since the shift of power. Their little game now had her in the role of slave and Severus as the Master.

But the wizard hadn't come near her during the entire time, yet as she passed him in the dungeon corridor this afternoon on the way to her rooms, the wizard stopped, blocking her path. His black eyes darted about to see if anyone were in the vicinity. No one was.

"Meet me outside the niche door tonight at midnight. Wear nothing under your robes but those leather boots that reach to your thighs. It is time for your punishment," he purred at her, then billowed off to his office, opening the door and giving her a final, narrow-eyed look before he entered.

Her knickers were soaked immediately.

Now, she waited for him. He was late. When she was Mistress, lateness was punished. She knew the wizard was doing this on purpose.

"Follow me," a voice hissed next to her ear.

Hermione jumped, turned and saw Severus striding across the grounds. She hurried after him. They walked a good distance, heading toward the Thestral stables.

"Where are we going, Severus?" Hermione asked.

"Don't question me, slave," the wizard snapped, not looking back at her, "Just be quiet and follow."

Hermione shut up and did as she was told. Severus walked up to the stable and pulled the door open.

"Go in," he said to her, his eyes hard.

Hermione entered the stable, fully expecting to see Thestrals tethered in the stalls. But they were gone. Severus warded the stable door securely.

"Walk ahead until you come to the back room," the wizard ordered, giving the witch a small, rough push.

Hermione walked down the stable to a closed wooden door. She opened it and entered, Severus right behind her. The walls were wooden and the wall studs visible. A few boxes rested here and there. A very long coil of rope rested on the floor, and in the center of the room a hoop hung from the ceiling. Hermione stared at it, wanting to ask what it was.

"Turn around," Severus said to the witch in a low voice.

Hermione turned.

"Take off your robes," he ordered.

The Potions Master watched as Hermione unfastened her robes and slipped them off, his eyes resting on the leather boots that ran up her legs and stopped mid-thigh. As he ordered, she wore nothing else. He stared at her chestnut bush, then his eyes drifted slowly over her body. The only sign that she affected him was a slight tightening of his jaw.

Severus walked over to her and pushed her toward the hoop, bending her down under it and picking up the long length of rope.

"This is going to take a little while," he breathed as he began knotting the rope expertly.

* * *

Hermione was neatly and intricately trussed up by the ropes, elaborate knots and loops surrounding the upper half of her body, her arms tied behind her back and the ropes running through the hanging hoops. She was bent over, resting in the ropes almost as if they were a sling. She stood on one leg because the wizard had bent her knee, ran the ropes through the hoop and tied her foot so her other leg was raised and her thighs parted. But she wasn't uncomfortable. The Potions Master had her weight evenly distributed and the ropes that held her also supported her. She hadn't known he was so good at tying knots.

Severus eyed his handiwork. It was perfect for what he intended on doing.

He unfastened and removed his robes. He was naked beneath, wearing only his boots. His erection was huge.

"I think you know what to expect, slave," Severus said silkily, rubbing Hermione's ass gently. She couldn't see him because he stood behind her. Hermione knew what that gentleness meant. She was in for a ride.

The Potions Master didn't go for verbal degradation, or even striking Hermione in any manner, well, at least not with crops or whips. All he needed was his cock to "punish' her. He enjoyed physically restraining her in some submissive, controlling position, twisting her body into knots with holds that any wrestler would envy. This was the first time he had used ropes on her.

Severus got off on how small Hermione was compared to him as well, as how he was able to shut that brilliant mind down stroke by stroke until she was an incoherent, shuddering mass of wanton, shrieking witch. Then, then he would be tender and loving…when all she was belonged to him.

If there was one thing Severus Snape loved, it was control…and he loved Hermione for giving it to him. No matter how rough their encounters, the wizard was always aware the witch was a gift and he treasured her as well as her dark need for him.

Now, there would be no foreplay. He was the Master…and in his little world the Master had no need to give, only to take. Of course it was illusion…both witch and wizard were giving and taking. But what a delicious illusion it was.

Grasping his cock, he moved behind Hermione, who was literally dripping in the ropes. It was a real turn-on being bound up this way with her leg lifted. She felt so vulnerable and knowing Severus would take full advantage of that vulnerability was almost the equivalent of taking a strong lust elixir.

Hermione gasped and swung slightly forward as Severus pressed the thick head of his cock against her, then entered, filling her with his length and hardness, the witch letting out a moan. His hands at his sides and not touching her body, the wizard began to thrust, bouncing her forward and letting gravity do its work as she swung back.

**  
[ ANIMATED IMAGE ]**

"Yesssss," he sighed, watching his enormous tool penetrate her small body over and over, the clutch and slide of her soft inner flesh sending waves of pleasure shooting up his spine. But oh, he was still gentle…for the moment, listening to the witch moan with pleasure.

"Is it good to you slave?" he asked her silkily.

"Yes. Oh, yes, Severus," Hermione purred, her eyes closed, biting her lip.

"Thank me for giving you my cock," he breathed, speeding up a little.

"Thank you, thank you," she whimpered.

Severus continued to fuck her this way for several minutes, then slowed…coming to a stop, his loins resting against her ass as he remained buried inside her, throbbing…waiting.

"More…please," Hermione hissed, pushing back.

"You want more?" Severus asked her, slowly grabbing hold of the leather strap above the hoop with both hands.

"Yessss…please Master. More," Hermione sighed.

"More like…this?" Severus said, leaning back and ramming his cock into her brutally so the witch shrieked.

**  
[ ANIMATED IMAGE ]**

"Oh shit!" Hermione cried as Severus began pummeling her body, using the strap to yank her body as he plunged and bucked, tearing into the witch.

"Tell me you love it!" he roared at her, "Tell me you want it harder!"

"Oh fuck! Yes! I love it! I love it! Harder!" the little witch screeched, Severus slapping against her ass loudly as he fucked her. Oh yes…this was good…very, very good.

"Tell me you want me to take you around the world, slave," he hissed at her, his pale, pumping body starting to be covered by a sheen of perspiration as he applied himself to the witch.

"Take…me…around…the….world!" Hermione cried, tears of passion streaming down her face and her mouth going slack as she jerked wildly.

"Hold on witch!" the Professor growled, adjusting his grip on the strap and spinning, he and Hermione whirling like a dervish, the wizard not missing a single stroke as he rode her.

"This…puts…a…new…spin…on…things…doesn't…it…slave?" he grunted, punctuating every word with a thrust.

**[ ANIMATED IMAGE ]**

Disoriented, lost to his pounding possession, Hermione wasn't listening anymore…all she knew was the dark, powerful and dominating man who was her Master, her lover and her heart.

He always would be.

* * *

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